


as if in a dream

by luvsgalo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Time Skip, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsgalo/pseuds/luvsgalo
Summary: Sylvain doesn't like people thinking he's weak, although he guesses it's okay to trust in Felixora sylvix sickfic
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	as if in a dream

The moment Sylvain woke up he knew that today was going to be a rough one. His head was pounding against his head, and his throat felt sore. Thinking back to a few days before, Sylvain remembers himself, and the rest of the Blue Lions walking back in the rain while the professor comforts an angsty Dimitri. He breathes through his nose in slight irritation. He’s always hated getting sick. Living in Faerghus made him used to the cold, but certain instances from when he caught a cold always brought back bad memories. 

Sitting up with a groan, Sylvain rubs his fingers around his temples hoping it will relieve even a little pain. He’s almost relieved that they've just come back from a tough battle recently, and that mostly everyone will be in their rooms resting. He hates having people know he has any weakness, even a mere sickness. 

Sylvain thanks the goddess that there's no strategy meeting today. His headache is getting worse and worse every second, and if he has to sit through something tedious like that—well he’s sure that it won't help anyone if he’s too busy manifesting his pain to vanish, rather than actually paying attention. 

Knowing for certain that he won't be able to hold any sort of breakfast down, Sylvain gets dressed in some more casual clothing instead of his usual armor and mentally decides to take a walk around the monastery. Fresh air might do him better than staying cooped up in his room, and there’ll hardly be anyone out, so he won't have to keep up his charming playboy persona. 

He was right about the hallways being practically empty. Maybe a couple people were out roaming around, but they paid no mind to Sylvain leisurely taking his mid morning stroll. Sylvain was also right about the fresh air helping his headache. The painful, earthquake-like pounding has been reduced to a more constant throbbing. 

The cat population was nowhere near to what it was before around the church, but occasionally Sylvain would see a cat and squat down to pet it. This particular cat was black and sort of sassy. It almost bit Sylvain before he was finally able to pet it. The cat gently purrs as Sylvain scratches behind its ears and he chuckles fondly. He loved cats as a kid, although there weren't many cats in Faerghus, let alone near his home. When Sylvain first moved to the monastery, he was overjoyed at the sight of cats littering the courtyard, and he would always spend his free time in the morning petting them and sneaking them pieces of food. 

He snapped out of his thoughts when the cat at his feet licked his finger and walked away. Sylvain stands up straight as he watches the cat leave with a fond smile. It almost reminds him of Felix—sort of. 

Speaking of the devil, Sylvain hears distant sounds coming from where the training grounds were, and who else would be out on the training grounds before noon instead of resting after a battle. Sylvain knows he wanted to somewhat avoid people today, but he starts walking towards the training grounds before he fully realizes it. Some part of him has always gravitated towards Felix, and today was no different. 

When he got to the training grounds, Felix had his back turned to him, and was hitting a dummy with a wooden sword. Felix was in more casual clothes too. A simple shirt and pants just like Sylvain. The scene was so familiar to when Sylvain would secretly watch Felix train back when they were still students. He usually tries to avoid letting Felix notice him, since he’s not usually one for hardcore training, but today with the lack of people and noise around them, Felix hears Sylvain shuffle behind him. 

Turning around, Felix sets his free hand on his hip and raises a brow at Sylvain. 

Sylvain runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick he has when he doesn't know what to say. “Hey Felix, didn’t think you’d notice me.” 

“What are you doing here Sylvain? I thought you’d be resting like everyone else.” Felix says with none of his usual bite. 

“I could say the same to you about resting.” He laughs. “I was just taking a walk when I heard you training and thought I might stop by to say hi.” Sylvain gets his easygoing flirty flow back and loosens his stance. 

“Well if you have nothing else to do, then spar with me. I can only do so much without a real opponent.” Felix was already heading towards where the training weapons were, and tossed a lance at Sylvain. 

Sylvain caught the lance and stared at it dumbfoundedly. How did his morning walk turn into a sparring session? “Um well actually Felix—”

“What? Scared you're gonna lose?” Felix taunted. 

Well now Sylvain had his pride to uphold. He tightened his grip on the wooden lance and walked up to Felix, before getting into a fighting position. “You’re on.” He smirked. 

Felix lunged towards him and he barely had time to process the movement before he blocked the hit. “Isn't that playing dirty? You didn't even say start.” Sylvain laughed, audibly struggling to talk while using all of his strength to push Felix back. 

Felix hooked his right foot behind Sylvain’s and pulled, successfully knocking Sylvain to the   
ground. “All's fair in war, right?” He said with a slight smile.

Sylvain stood back up and felt a big lightheaded, but he shrugged it off thinking that it must be from the fall. “You say that like we aren't sparring in a church with wooden weapons before noon.” 

They spar for a bit longer, fairly equal in the amount of blows they receive and deliver. Sylvain thinks that he might be able to beat Felix for once at this rate. All the other times that Felix forced Sylvain to spar, he usually halfheartedly battled until he lost, laughing it off with a ‘looks like you win again, Felix’ to boost the others ego. Although Felix was usually pissed that Sylvain threw the match, now he thinks that he could actually win this thing.

Felix charges in with another fast hit, and Sylvain learns from the first time to hold up his weapon to block it. Felix is slightly sweaty which leaves his skin shiny. His hair is coming slightly undone from the usual bun he keeps it in, and Sylvain can’t find it in him to stop staring. Maybe it's his fever or how ethereal Felix looks, but Sylvain feels even more lightheaded than from that fall he took earlier. 

Sylvain realizes too late that it is, in fact, his fever that’s making him lightheaded.

Losing his grip on his lance, Sylvain’s knees buck and the next thing he feels is his shoulder hitting the ground painfully, while Felix shouts his name. He’s guessing that he must've blacked out for a second by the fact that he's lying on the floor, with Felix’s concerned face hovering above him. 

“Sylvain!” Felix exclaims, voice lined with worry. Sylvain shakily sits up and Felix rests his hand on his shoulder, steading him. 

Sylvain blinks his eyes a few times, trying to get the room to stop spinning. “Sorry about that Felix. I’m fine now.” His tone would make anyone doubt that he’s actually fine, but Felix has known him for so long that Sylvain should've just kept his mouth shut. 

“Like hell you’re alright.” Felix presses a cold hand against Sylvain’s burning forehead and frowned. “You have a fever. Did you know about this when you decided to spar with me?” 

Sylvain kept his eyes closed and focused on the chill on his forehead, knowing that whatever excuse he can muster up won't help his case. He thinks he hears Felix mutter ‘idiot’ under his breath.

Felix retracts his hand, much to Sylvain’s dismay. “You could’ve told me you know. You don’t have to pretend around me.” Felix sighed. Grabbing his arms, Felix helps Sylvain to his feet and lets him lean on him for support. Their shoulders bump into each other and Sylvain weakly rests his arm around Felix, letting his dizziness fade. 

“I’ll take you to your room okay?” Felix’s is almost whispering due to being so close to Sylvain’s face. He knows better than to yell at him right now. He can do that after Sylvain’s fever passes. Felix snakes his arm around Sylvain’s waist, grabs the hand around his shoulders and carefully leads them towards the other’s room. 

~

After struggling to open Sylvain’s door, Felix plops Sylvain down on the bed. Sylvain still has some consciousness left in him to take off his shoes and let his head fall on his pillow. He feels significantly more warm than when he woke up and decides not to get under the covers. He closes his eyes to find relief from his—now pounding—headache. He can feel the mattress sink as Felix sits down beside him. 

Felix doesn't say anything at first and just stares at Sylvain. His hair is sprawled all over his pillow from when he plopped his head down. Sylvain always had a constant smile on his face—it was like a smile was his neutral expression, but now Sylvain’s lips were parted and he had faint dark circles under his eyes. Felix rarely gets the opportunity to really look at Sylvain since he doesn't want anyone to notice him staring. 

Resting a hand under his chin, Felix sighs deeply. “Do you feel a bit better now? You should go see Manuela when you think you can walk again.” 

Sylvain groans at the thought of leaving his bed. “It’s just a cold, I’ll get over it. Don't wanna see Manuela.” His meek voice surprises him, and he swallows in hopes it’ll soothe his sore throat a bit. 

“Don’t be a child and go see Manuela later. You might’ve gotten some concussion when you fainted earlier.” Sylvain lets out a high pitched whine to that, and Felix is taken aback. Sylvain is normally whiny in a flirty and playful sense but Felix has never seen him be so genuinely whiny like a child not getting his way. It was the other way around when they were growing up. “Well, what do you want me to do if you don’t want to see Manuela?”

Sylvain thinks about asking Felix to just get him water or a snack after lunch is over, but he decides to take a bit of a chance, hoping that his fever will make Felix sympathise with him. He hates feeling like others think he’s weak, but with Felix it's okay somehow. 

“Lay with me.” Sylvain mumbled. He can practically hear Felix thinking, and he struggles to open his eyes. “Take a nap with me, like when we were kids. I swear I’m not contagious.” 

Felix chuckles slightly at that. “You’re lucky that you’re sick otherwise I’d punch you right now.” And even though he says that, Felix moves around before lying down next to Sylvain. The bed is really only made for one person, so their shoulders are pressed against each other. 

Sylvain never told anyone, but those few times he was sick his family never let anyone know, in fear of the Gautier house being labeled as weak. Even his friends were told that he was training privately, or some other excuse. His friends weren’t allowed to visit him, and his family never really cared either. Some maid usually took care of him, and even then it wasn’t a maid that he was really close with. He was always lonely when he was sick, and he wants to have someone with him. 

Felix shifts a bit and relaxes next to him. Sylvain shuts his eyes again and grabs Felix’s hand, slightly squeezing. Felix squeezes back, slightly understanding his emotions and Sylvain lets himself relax enough to fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> manifesting that you leave a comment (<3)


End file.
